


Make Me Damned

by SomeSunnyDay



Category: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Emotional Longing, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, It's fucked up but they're ok with it, Knifeplay, M/M, Mind Games, Murder, Past Sexual Abuse, Smut, Trauma Fucking basically, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Voyeurism, it's kind of the whole point of the relationship; to be fucked up, porn with implied feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28449267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeSunnyDay/pseuds/SomeSunnyDay
Summary: His buttons are always fucked with when they do this, but, it’s not supposed to be loving, so why bother trying to change something that really doesn’t need to be changed.
Relationships: Jimmy "Mmy"/Edgar Vargas





	Make Me Damned

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my birthday off a previous version I did last year to see if I was comfortable with actually writing smut at all, turns out I'm only good at it if it has heavy backstory and introspection, and if you know me, that's my favorite thing to write with.
> 
> Please head the fucking tags for fuck's sake. Deals in past CSA (which is only briefly mentioned) and Jimmy, which he's got a warning all to himself because of the creep level here. 
> 
> Thing to take away from this, is that a lot of their deal is to drive each other over their boundaries over and over. Their relationship isn't great, and at this point if Jimmy told Edgar what he was doing to his friends, Edgar would shrug and ask for round two. 
> 
> (Also, Love-Hate-Sex-Pain by Godsmack is a good song for this one.)

Jimmy’s eyes roamed around Edgar’s house, dingy but in a delicate sort of way. He watched Edgar from the couch as he moved through the rooms Jimmy could see into. He was waiting for Edgar to pay attention to him, and the voyeuristic nature of the arrangement they had wasn’t lost on Jimmy, this was on purpose.   
  
He waited, like he was told. He had a hunch Edgar was dragging it out, but this relationship wasn’t supposed to be loving. He spread his arms out on the back of the couch, and waited. He always dwelled on how they met while he waited.   
  
It was a cold day, dull and washed out. It looked like it was going to rain later that night, Jimmy could smell it. There he was, walking behind this guy he’d found a few days ago, and the guy was completely oblivious to him. He smiled to himself. This was too easy.   
  
He walked a little faster and bumped into him, the guy turned around and Jimmy apologized, everything was going to plan, right down to the way the guy’s breath hitches when he cuts him slightly with his knife and tells him to turn and walk with him. They get to his house and Jimmy sweet talks and threatens him, figures out this guy’s baggage, then exploits it. This is the first of many levels of the same game.   
  
When Edgar snaps Jimmy out of his memory, he looks down at him through a haze, he looks tired. It seems he always is when Jimmy’s around, maybe those comments about being draining were correct. Jimmy smiles, the weaker, the better. They play this game of tug-of-war and it suits them well, considering everything they are is built on a shaky as fuck foundation of blood lust and stupid as Hell trauma responses.    
  


Edgar helps Jimmy up from the couch and leads him to the bedroom, it’s been a mess for a while, and Jimmy wonders when Edgar will realize the only reason why the friends that he makes are disappearing is because Jimmy’s killing them. No one will eat up their time but him. As Edgar closes and locks the door, Jimmy smiles again, once he’s done with Edgar he’ll kill him, and how glorious that would feel. Ever the crocodile smile as Jimmy leers over Edgar’s shoulder from behind.   
  
Jimmy sits on the bed, he’s very familiar with these high thread count sheets, very pleased with the bloodstains still visible. He moves his head to watch Edgar, again, feeling voyeuristic. These little private moments feel forbidden, from the time Edgar turns to undress to when everything is off of him but his glasses and cross, are forbidden. He can see it in his body language, he’s exposing the things he used to get hurt with, Jimmy was forced to be patient with him for a while, due to what happened to him as a child.   
  
But when Edgar turns around, Jimmy is always reminded of why that patience was worth it. His skin is freckled, cut up from younger years of torment and his blade that he made just for Edgar. His body is well taken care of but soft at the same time, not all muscle and some bit of fat. As he walks the short distance from his laundry basket to Jimmy on the bed, his cock is half hard and it’s not too bad and it feels great. There’s very good and appreciated parts of Edgar, and he guesses that’s why it’s taking him so long to kill him.   
  
This relationship isn’t centered around love, it never has been, even if the way Edgar holds him to keep him from leaving betrays that unspoken agreement. Even if the ways in which Jimmy takes the time to admire Edgar from that proverbial window; the outsider looking in on something that shouldn’t be looked at, disobeys what boundaries he personally set for himself.   
  
Edgar undresses Jimmy slowly, his body by comparison, is like a rail, very fragile looking. His veins are visible maybe even to a worrying degree. His body is covered in different types of scars from over the years, mostly from fighting or being jumped. He smiles at Edgar, crooked, slightly crowded teeth, sharp like daggers. They invite something unsightly.   
  
Edgar kisses Jimmy, and he tastes like Camel's and 99 cent apple shots, he knows what’s coming next, and a part of him can’t wait, the other wants to push away. His buttons are always fucked with when they do this, but, it’s not supposed to be loving, so why bother trying to change something that really doesn’t need to be changed.   
  
He ducks his head to Jimmy’s neck and this is the only time that he has complete control over him. He kisses Jimmy’s neck, he drags his tongue up the side, then leaves deep almost blistering hickeys wherever he can in the short time he has to do this. This is the only time he has the upper hand, and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want more of it.   
  
Edgar feels the blade to his stomach and he stops, that’s always been the cue. Once Jimmy puts his knife to Edgar’s stomach, Edgar knows to stop being dominant in every sense, since that’s not what he’s here for. Jimmy rolls his shoulders and pops his neck. He’s ready to go.   
  
The entrance will always be really difficult to handle, Edgar will never get used to the burn of it all. He asked Jimmy to drag him to Hell a long time ago, now he’s being pulled around the pits of it by his entrails. He’ll always go to his personal demon for assistance on matters of the flesh. There’s no reason to do it alone when he could just call the Devil incarnate and be tortured for free and for longer than an hour.   
  
Edgar grits out a moan and Jimmy smiles, he moves in slowly, then fast, and there’s no time to adjust. Edgar digs his nails into Jimmy’s arm and he laughs. He keeps moving at this brutal pace, then takes the knife and cuts Edgar up with it. Edgar groans deep in his throat and throws his head back, he feels rage and this is why he wants Jimmy to do this, and him only. He’s learned that only Jimmy can bring out feelings and responses long since buried. He tightens his grip on Jimmy’s arm that has the knife, and as Jimmy thrusts faster, he puts it to his neck and he asks with a gleam in his eyes, “Where are you?”

  
Every time the answer is the same from Edgar, “In Hell.”   
  
Jimmy grunts and pushes the knife to Edgar’s chest, “Who’re you with?”   
  
Edgar winces as Jimmy slices a little skin off of him, “With you.”   
  
Jimmy thrusts harder, panting out, “And who am I?”   
  
Edgar opens his eyes and meets Jimmy’s, “The Devil.”   
  
And Jimmy smiles in that crocodile way and kisses Edgar, cutting his body in small increments. He laughs as Edgar tears up, but all the same, he smiles.   
  
“Welcome to Hell, babe.” Jimmy whispers into Edgar’s ear, and Edgar breathes, “As always, very happy to be back.”   
  
Jimmy drops the knife to the side and tugs Edgar’s cock, and revels in Edgar’s noises as he pulls out to cum on Edgar’s stomach. Edgar takes a little longer than he does, and Jimmy drowns himself in the way Edgar’s expressions pull through each other and eventually get snapped still when he cums. Jimmy leans over to the drawer to get the wipes and he cleans them both off.    
  
As Edgar rolls over to Jimmy’s side when they settle for the night, he thinks of all the ways he can bring Jimmy to tears. He takes Jimmy’s hand and rubs it, this is one of those ways. Jimmy doesn’t like to believe he has baggage, but he does. Edgar can see it, clear as day. Jimmy freezes when Edgar holds his hand, he can hear the crack in his voice when he says, “..Man, fuck off.”   
  
Edgar smiles, not so much of a crocodile, but of a wolf clothed in sheep’s skin. He’s waiting for Jimmy to be off guard enough so he can take complete control. He hugs Jimmy tighter, and as he feels Jimmy’s tears on his wrist, he has a feeling that it won’t be too long now. Jimmy loves to hide behind a sadistic mask, and some part of that outer painting is true, but once you look behind that poorly made papier mâché you’ll only see a scared young man trying to pretend he’s a God. Even though, deep down, he knows he’s as mortal as the rest of the people he says that he detests.   
  
Edgar kisses Jimmy’s cheek, and he’s getting closer now; they both are. It’s just a matter of time before they meet each other at that eventual universal crash, and their true motives are revealed. The paper crocodile and the wolf in disguise. It’s only a matter of time.


End file.
